Chen Wei raised a chopstick and, in an instant, slammed it down with force. The rounded, slim chopstick, sharper than a pointed knife, effortlessly pierced through the back of Zhu Shuangyi's hand, penetrated his palm, and stuck into the wooden table, nailing it there!
Everyone, including the diners and the shop owner, were stunned. Before this, they had thought such things only happened in movies and TV dramas — never did they imagine that they would witness it in real life.
This guy was just too strong!
A few seconds later, when Zhu Shuangyi's gaze slowly drifted downward, he finally realized what had happened. His brows knitted together, his expression turned ugly, and his mouth opened with tears in his eyes, he began to scream, "Ah! My hand! My hand! It hurts! It hurts so much!"
"Brother Zhu, are you, are you alright?" A subordinate approached and asked with concern.
"Go to hell! Do I look alright to you?" Zhu Shuangyi kicked the subordinate angrily, scolding him.
